Category Archives: The Sir Richard Hammerman Adventures

Late September saw the expedition stagger back into Cape Colony, after a long and wearying journey from the pygmy infested lands of the north. Their escape had not gone unnoticed, and for three tense days the infernal creatures had snapped at their heels, denying them rest along the way. Only once the jungles began to clear did the pygmies give up their pursuit. Even so, not until they had at last returned to civilisation did they feel any sense of safety.

Leaving behind the fallen snake, the expedition pressed on again, following the stream deeper into the cavern. If the sounds of their clash with the snake had been heard, no sign of it was forthcoming from the pygmies, neither those back at the settlement, or those that had followed them into the old temple. Sir Richard did not know why they hadn’t followed, though he was not about to question their good fortune. Perhaps it had been fear of the snake, a reaction he could well understand.

The cavern began to narrow the further they proceeded down alongside the stream, with the walls closing in around them. The fallen boulders and stones that had littered the floor around where they had entered the chamber became less of an impediment, growing fewer in number, allowing them to pick up their pace.

Obadiah led the way down through the tunnel, glowing rod held in one hand and rifle in the other. He walked half bent over to avoid scrapping his head across the top of the tunnel. Even so, it slowed the pace considerably. Curiously, the clinging webs that they had endured earlier were lacking through that tunnel. Shuffling along behind Obadiah were the native bearers, carrying their paralysed companions, with Doctor Gooding and Sir Richard bringing up the rear.

Before long the corridor led to a large stone door, carved with yet more of the hieroglyphs that they had observed earlier along the walls. In addition, the door displayed an image of the temple over which some form of creature loomed, though where its head and arms would normally have shown, fragments of stone were missing, shrouding its identity in mystery.

They departed the camp with the arrival of first light the following morning, tracking the stream as best they could back up into the hills. It proved no easy trek, for the jungle crowded in thick and unyielding in parts around them. The mule clanked and forced its way through the foliage after them, the boiler cranked all the way up to provide extra power and traction, at the expense of burning through the coal log at greater speed.

Despite Doctor Gooding’s confident prediction, it took him a few days longer than he anticipated to get the mechanical mule up and running again, spending the time tinkering away with it to get it up to peak performance. Sir Richard partook of the resultant delay to spend time down at the Club, catching up with acquaintances and with news, in particular with the newly arrived Lord Redsmith, who had come by way of Australis, where he had been Chief Magistrate at the Port Jackson colony.

When Sir Richard returned to the dining room the following morning, he found it somewhat cleaner in appearance. Doctor Gooding’s tools were still laid out across the table, but the parts of the mechanical mule had been removed. Fresh linen had likewise replaced the one that had been stained with oil and grease.

The evening wound on in a haze of cigar smoke and fine brandy. Money flowed back and forwards, changing hands as Sir Richard won some games and lost others. In the end he came out marginally ahead. Around the room swirled other members of the Club, coming and going. In time the evening reached its conclusion, rather late, and Sir Richard retired, bidding his farewells to his companions.

Despite the hour of the day, with evening having already made its presence felt and the long shadows of night emerging, the air still felt oppressive with a heavy heat as Sir Richard emerged from the house. Fans had cooled the interior, run from the boilers in the basement. No such cooling breeze blew through the streets. Lamp posts glowed down the way, illuminating the street of the modest, white painted houses of the gentry, each with fence of iron railings before it. Out on the waters, lights twinkled from the many ships at anchor.